


washed in moonlight, wrapped in midnight

by chants_de_lune



Series: and if my wishes came true, it would've been you [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Late Night Conversations, Non-Graphic Violence, Platonic Cuddling, Protective Zuko (Avatar), Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:22:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25677283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chants_de_lune/pseuds/chants_de_lune
Summary: He promised them that Ember Island would be secure.  The safehouse was one of the many penances he owed them.  He needed to know that this place was more than the site of long-forsaken childhood memories.  Now their last night was rife with fear.A sound pulled him from his thoughts.  Someone was crying, so quiet that if he were on the other side of the cave, he might’ve missed it.He snapped his fingers to produce a miniscule flame, just enough to let him see a few feet.The crier’s shaking shoulders were swathed in blue._________________________________________________________The day before the Eve of Sozin’s Comet had taken a different turn.  Strangers send a shockwave through the Avatar’s group of young heroes.  Zuko realizes how much hurt Katara has been hiding from them, and he does what he can to comfort her.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: and if my wishes came true, it would've been you [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862884
Comments: 10
Kudos: 104





	washed in moonlight, wrapped in midnight

**Author's Note:**

> I put off watching Avatar: The Last Airbender for years because I knew I would become Zutara trash. 
> 
> Here I am, completely Zutara trash. 
> 
> Enjoy.

They should have been resting up at the house, preparing for the challenge awaiting them in two days’ time. 

Instead they were hiding in a small, cramped cave, laying low from the Ember Island villagers who could’ve overheard that day’s fight. 

_ Smugglers, seven of them. At Ember Island?  _

This location was supposed to be safe, the place where the Firelord would never find them. But the smugglers had landed to retrieve one of their cove stashes and seen them training on the beach. Two of them could firebend, and that seemed to be enough reason to challenge the arrow-tattooed, airbending Avatar and his companions. 

_ It was a bad fight. _ One of them had thrown a spear into Sokka’s shoulder before being knocked out by one of Toph’s flying rocks. 

(Zuko would never forget how profusely Sokka had started bleeding, how he had fallen to his knees in shock.)

__

Katara had healed him for almost an hour while the others put the unconscious smugglers in a cave half a mile away. Toph sealed the entrance with a pile of boulder fragments, muttering, “It’ll take them a day to dig out, we’ll be gone by then.”

No one was in a state to return to the house; if anyone had recognized them, they could wake up on their way to Boiling Rock. 

So here Zuko found himself, wedged between a boulder at his feet and the craggy rock wall. He enjoyed the smell of the sea mere yards away, but the chalky odor of the cave made his nose sting. Dirty sand was stuck in his fingernails and chafing in his clothes. At least he had Appa’s tail as a pillow. 

The bison blocked most of the wind and light from the cave entrance, radiating the lionturtle's share of the feeble heat they did have. Fire was too risky, instead they huddled like lemmingchicks in the dark. 

_ Why had today gone so wrong, when we were so close?  _

The only person he could make out in the dim light was Katara, laying a few feet away from him. 

He recalled how much her hands had trembled, knitting her brother’s muscle, skin and sinew back together. The lines of her face had been firm, however, when she and Suki laid Sokka down on the only blanket they had with them. 

It had been hours, and sounds of sleep echoed in the small confines of the cave. Sokka’s usual snores were absent, replaced with the odd groan. Appa’s breathing was a low rumble, and as Zuko listened intently, he discerned Momo’s chitters, Aang’s wispy exhales, and Toph’s low murmurs. 

Sleep still evaded him, his mind reeling from the attack. 

He  _ promised them  _ that Ember Island would be secure. The safehouse was one of the many penances he owed them. He needed to know that this place was more than the site of long-forsaken childhood memories. Now their last night was rife with fear. 

A sound pulled him from his thoughts. Someone was crying, so quiet that if he were on the other side of the cave, he might’ve missed it. 

He snapped his fingers to produce a miniscule flame, just enough to let him see a few feet. 

The crier’s shaking shoulders were swathed in blue. 

A knot tied itself in Zuko’s stomach. 

It’s  _ Katara _ who was crying. 

Katara, who kept everyone fed, clean-clothed, on schedule. Katara, never asking for help or issuing a complaint. 

He quickly extinguished his flame and scooted closer to her. 

“Katara?” he whispered. He heard a loud sniffle, and he felt her eyes find his in the dark. 

“I’m - I’m sorry I woke you up, I just -” Her words were washed in heaving breaths. 

He understood all too well the desire to withdraw into one’s pain and suffer alone. But he realized that after their journey together, he doesn’t  _ want _ her to suffer alone. 

“Katara, don’t say sorry,” he murmured, and perhaps his half-asleep state mitigated the usual awkwardness he felt in conversations like these. “What’s wrong?” 

His hand found her shoulder and lingered tentatively. To his surprise, she leaned into his touch, even shifting closer. 

“I don’t even know, I’m fine, I have to be fine because if they see that I’m not-” 

His hand slid to her back, and her shoulders began to shake hard again. 

“There’s no one who can-” 

“You have me. I’m here.” 

He pulled her up to his chest, her words tugging on a kindred string. One arm looped easily under her neck; both their heads were pillowed on Appa’s tail. His other arm hugged her waist, hand anchored to her hip.. 

It struck him then that he’s the tallest of the group, the only one bigger and older than Katara, besides her brother. No wonder she felt as if there were no one to turn to, now that her brother lay injured, being attended by his own girlfriend, who was still shaky from her stint in Boiling Rock. 

“I’m here Katara,” he said again. “You’re not alone.” 

He propped himself higher so her face was pressed to the center of his sternum, his arms cinching harder, vying to cover her entire frame. He’d do anything to protect her. Did she know that? 

“How am I going to protect them, Zuko?” she sobbed into his tunic. “There’s no way we’re all going to make it out of this alive.” 

He pressed her in tighter, palms pulsing heat with his heartbeat. He didn’t have the words for it, but he needed her to be grounded, here in the moment. 

“No one is going to die,” an oath in his tone, but no promise left his lips. He knew better than to let his words possibly fracture her fragile hope. 

Katara lifted her face from his shoulder. “Aang and Toph… they’re so _ little _ . They’re just kids.” 

Zuko nodded, wincing from her tears as her head fell back on his collarbone. 

Aang was the Avatar, but an Avatar who would chase seagulls through the sand when he thought no one was looking. Toph could move every mountain in the Earth Kingdom, but Zuko knows she’ll reach for the closest person when they’re flying through the air, especially over water. 

“We’re just kids too, you know,” he said sadly. “Or we were supposed to be. You, me… Suki and Sokka.” 

At her brother’s name, Katara shuddered. Zuko ran his hand through the tresses of her hair, and her shaking stilled. 

“I almost lost him.” 

“You saved him.” 

“He nearly died, my  _ big brother. _ ” 

(In the back of his mind, Zuko thought that no one could pry him from this embrace, not when Katara needed it so badly. ) 

He was reminded of how Azula used to be, before their father’s poison had seeped into her soul. How at 3 years old, she’d run into his bedroom at night, crying about the bad dragons in her nightmares. He remembered laying beside her, singing one of their mother’s lullabies, and carrying her back to her own chambers when she had fallen asleep again. 

“I should’ve seen how they separated Sokka from the rest of us,” he whispered, voice laden with genuine regret. “I could’ve stopped them from hurting him.” 

Katara shook her head. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

(Aang had been the one watching Sokka’s back, but Zuko kept that observation to himself.) 

“Listen to me,” he said quietly, and somehow his brain didn’t overthink his following vow, “You’re going to keep them safe, and I’ll keep  _ you _ safe, alright?”

A humored scoff emerged through the tears. “I can take care of myself, Zuko.” 

“I know,” he assured her. “But if you’re so focused on everyone else, you deserve someone watching your back.” 

Katara stifled a weak sound and nodded, turning her face away from him. Zuko pressed his mouth to her temple, caressing the crown of her hair. 

(It didn’t register to him until later that it counted as a kiss.) 

Then Zuko sensed her hand brushing up against his ribs, realizing that she was feebly bending her tears from his clothes. 

“K-Katara, you don’t have to do that,” he swayed her fingertips back to their resting place on his back. “It’s okay, you can keep crying,” his grip braced, rocking her back and forth, despite the sharp rock that dug into his spine. “Just let it all out.” 

He stumbled on the words like loose stones, but he knew that if he had one more chance to feel his uncle’s arms around him again, his eyes would not be dry. 

Katara’s weeping didn’t crescendo, but it grew steadier, and the water that soaked through his shirt was cold. 

(Either her grief cooled her tears, or his heightened emotions had him running hot, perhaps both.)

His frantic heartbeat pounded against his sternum, and he slowed his breathing, gently shushing and coaxing her to do the same. 

In and out. Push and pull. Yin and yang. 

Zuko rubbed small circles over her spine as her quivering exhales began to ease. For several minutes, they laid in silence, nothing in the air but the wind and tumble of the tide. 

“Zuko?”

Katara’s fingertips feathered through the ends of his hair, sending an odd feeling through his chest. 

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” she said earnestly. 

His tongue felt like lead. “You’re welco- I mean, anytime, I guess.”

She laughed softly at his fumbled words. 

Thunder rumbled from beyond the cave entrance, and a current of air streamed over Appa’s back, bringing a chilly rain with it. A sunless summer storm, lashing droplets that Katara is too exhausted to bend away. 

He felt her shiver. They would have crawled higher into Appa’s fur, but the bison had his limbs curled into his belly, most of his tail tucked beneath his rear. 

Katara started to shift side to side. “Shouldn’t be so cold,” she said, struggling not to let her teeth chatter. “Grew up in the South Pole, for La’s sake.” 

Zuko chuckled, edging closer as she turned, her shoulders brushing his front. The chill pierces his skin too, even more sensitive to cold than hers. 

He drew Katara deeper into his embrace, his body curled round hers like one of the dragons in the palace tapestries. He shut his eyes, focusing on his inner fire. It slowly simmered underneath the surface of his skin, dragon’s breath raising his body temperature. She nestled further into his arms, humming softly. 

Vaguely he wondered that if Katara were the motherly friend of the group, did they have someone filling a fatherly role? It wouldn’t be Sokka, he was too carefree, Suki kept to herself, the younger ones never took any responsibility… 

_ “Aang, try lowering your shoulders when you cast a fireball.”  _

_ “Toph, stop arguing and clean up before dinner.“ _

_ “I found those rosehips you like, Suki.”  _

_ “Get out of the bison’s mouth, Sokka.”  _

_ * * * _

_ Am I … Am I the dad friend?  _

Feeling a slight flare in his cheeks, Zuko retreated from those thoughts. Apprehension still clawed in his gut, recalling the impossible tasks ahead of them. 

“Katara?” he whispered after a minute, but barely receiving a mumble in response. Her figure felt heavy with sleep, and considering the fighting, healing, and hurting she had endured that day, Zuko was surprised she had spoken to him for so long. 

He set his head up high to rest, but Appa’s fur tickled his nose. He tucked his face into Katara’s hair instead, and a flutter thrummed from one shoulder to the other. 

She may only have been snuggled to him for the emanating heat, but Zuko… _ liked _ holding Katara. 

She fit flush to his side, like a river hugging its bank. Her hair was soft and silky, with the lingering essence of the water lily perfume from the house. 

(He associated that smell with her; Suki preferred jasmine, Toph didn’t believe in smelling fragrant.) 

His exhales swept a lock of hair from her shoulder; the scent of her skin was warm and fresh, a spring at sunset resting beside him. 

Before those sensations could send his heart racing out of control, he felt Katara reach for his hand, murmuring unintelligible phrases in her slumber. He clasped their hands over her waist. 

There weren’t many similarities, his broad hand smothering her slender one. Firebenders had wide palms and flat knuckles for bursts of flame. The lines from Katara’s wrist to her fingertips were graceful, fluidly channeling water, never fighting it. 

His hands must have seemed so rough and calloused to her, skin singed from long sparring matches and harder fights. Her hands… they were smooth as sea stones, soft despite their struggles. 

He supposed it made sense that Katara - gentle, soothing Katara - had hands that suited her spirit. 

The calm rhythm of her breathing lulled him drowsy, but he opened his eyes one last time. The storm clouds must have dissipated, for a small beam of moonlight crested into the cave. Zuko’s heart stuttered, seeing Katara’s bare shoulder glow under the stars. 

(Azula used to brag that her skin never burned, even on the hottest summer days, claiming her complexion was ‘sanctified by the sun.’ Zuko thought Katara was far luckier, to be blessed by the moon.) 

He presses her even closer, breathes in the lilies again, and when their hearts beat in tandem with the waves in the distance, Zuko lets sleep pull him under. 

  
  


Daybreak awakened him as it always did, alert as the first rays of sunlight glanced off his eyelashes. He drew his shoulder away from the wall, hiding a wince at the ache lodged in his back. 

A soft murmur distracted him from the discomfort. Katara was still asleep in his arms. 

And Katara, face bathed in the rosy pink dawn… was so _ pretty _ .

His heart beat a drum so loud against his ribs, he worried it would wake her up. Her expression remained serene, brow smooth, plush lips curved in a happy dream. 

With the sunlight growing harsher, Zuko felt suddenly exposed, like midnight was a blanket keeping their intimate confiding secret from prying eyes and ears. 

(In addition …. all of him rose with the sun, and it would be embarrassing if _ a certain part _ of him rose any further, laying next to Katara like this.) 

Before anyone else awoke, Zuko carefully pulled himself free and hefted himself onto Appa’s back. The bison gave a low grunt of protest. 

“Ssh, back to sleep, boy.” Zuko patted his head before sliding down the other side of her flank. He draped his tunic on a dry boulder and began his morning firebending katas.

Expelling the flames set him at ease, petrichor filling his lungs, and the balmy ocean breeze cooled his overheated skin. The tide rose and lapped at his feet. 

(He fought not to think of how his legs were all but entwined with Katara’s last night.) 

Another half hour passed, and he heard Appa lumber out of the cave. The beast shook his horns and headed into the water, rinsing sand from his fur. One by one, the rest of the group walked out, yawning. 

“Morning!” came the greeting from the Avatar. Katara said nothing at first, her gaze drifting to Zuko’s stark chest. He shrugged on his tunic hastily, sun searing his face. 

“We ate everything we had packed yesterday,” she announced, looking at him, but not quite meeting his eye. “We’ll have to get breakfast back at the house.” 

Zuko nodded, a stone of fear rolling in his stomach. “It’ll be empty. They couldn’t have found us,” he said, striving to sound confident. Then he turned to Sokka. “How are you holding up, buddy?” 

Sokka’s face was ashen, and he shrugged grimly. “We have to leave by noon to rendezvous with Dad on the Crescent Islands.” 

“Well, I better check on those smugglers,” Toph piped up. “Twinkletoes has enough to worry about without them dying on us.” 

Everyone looked at Aang. Gone was the youthful mirth in his eyes. His face seemed hollower as he clenched his jaw, nodding curtly at Toph’s suggestion. 

Zuko’s sight flitted across the group; they were all standing in a circle on the sand. The wind tugged at their loose hems. 

_ They’re all looking at me to lead them.  _

Zuko cleared his throat, but his tongue felt heavy again. 

“Let’s get Sokka up in the saddle,” Suki chimed in, noting his nerves. Zuko’s head jerked up, his shoulders straightening. 

“Right,” he said, turning to her partner. “You’ll need to rest as much as you can before the comet arrives.” 

Sokka seemed as though he might argue, but he agreed, letting Suki put his arm over her shoulder. 

Appa crouched down in the shallow water, letting them climb onto his back. Aang grabbed his glider and leapt effortlessly to his position between the bison’s horns. 

Katara turned to Zuko. A moment stretched between them, both unsure of what to say. 

“I’ll stay with Toph,” he mutters, watching the world’s greatest earthbender kick sand at a crab. 

Katara nodded, one hand clutching Appa’s fur. “I’ll gather our things and meet you back on the beach. Then we’ll all leave, together.” 

“Together,” Zuko assented. 

She pivoted to scale a path into the saddle. As she shifted her weight, one of her hands slipped, knee giving out beneath it. Zuko grasped her errant hand, holding her steady as she regained her footing. 

Katara fixed him with a curious stare. The lump returned to his throat, and he swallowed hard against it. 

A few phrases teetered on the tip of his tongue. 

_ “You keep us alive, I’ll keep you on two feet.” _

_ “I’m afraid that there’s not enough time left for all the things I need to tell you.”  _

_ “Could we ever fall asleep like that again, on pillows instead of rocks?”  _

A wave crashed against his thigh. 

He settled for a stiff nod, releasing her hand as Appa let out a bellow. He and Toph started walking through the dunes. 

When the bison disappeared over the ridge, Zuko unfurled his fist, splaying his fingertips as fire danced across the skin that Katara had touched. 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy belated Zutara week!
> 
> I really hope you all enjoyed reading that as much as I loved writing it!  
> Since it was so short, I really strived to add sensory details so readers would get the feelings of the scene. 
> 
> For a long time I've wanted to write a "characters cry and cuddle in a cave and don't talk about it the next day" sort of fic, and I feel like I completely indulged myself in Zuko being a softie. 
> 
> Thank you Taylor Swift for releasing folklore and summoning my muse again! 
> 
> Please let me know what you thought!
> 
> (PS: the italics were Zuko's thoughts, and the parentheses indicated more omniscient introspection, if that makes sense!)


End file.
